


Struck Gold

by Beekappa



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), Frozen - Anderson-Lopez & Lopez/Lee
Genre: F/F, idek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:33:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22885600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beekappa/pseuds/Beekappa
Summary: Here's my part for the exchange! The art ended up pretty rough since I'm currently between exams, so trash it is - my artblock's giving me hell too - so not wanting to risk of giving too many excuses, I rustled up a little writing as well haha.This was all a response to the prompt by Sprinkles for a modern AU set in Las Vegas. A game of dares gone terribly wrong. Or perhaps, terribly right?
Relationships: Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 31
Collections: Elsamaren Femslash February 2020 Gift Exchange





	Struck Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OGsprinkles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OGsprinkles/gifts).



“I dare you…” There was barely a breath’s pause for second thoughts before all hell broke loose. “I dare you to marry me,” Sweet, shameless lips uttered, and in that moment, Elsa felt her fate had been sealed.

Perhaps, Elsa surmised in the midst of her shaky recovery, that, whilst tracing the rim of her glass as idly as she could manage, she truly had reached her drink-limit for the night. Though, in her defence, the swig she’d latest taken to scoffing down was more an act of shoddy stalling in the face of what she could possibly say to get herself out of whatever ditch she’d found herself in. Rather, did she even _want_ to? Squinting through her glass as she swiped those last drops, the silhouette of a teasing hand waved out at her and she couldn’t help the shaky exhale that subsequently made itself known, her throat threatening to tense around her gulp. A perfectly acceptable response given the circumstances. Who didn’t down a glass and pray to whatever Gods may be to give them strength when proposed to? Sure, they’d just met, but something told Elsa that everything about what was unfolding in that Las Vegas bar was vastly different—No, this was just a game of dares. She’d done this all the time with her sister growing up and this was just a particularly cheap move on her partner’s behalf. That was it. That was all.

With what she hoped was some semblance of a fleeting shrug, Elsa set about placing the glass back down to appease the tremors flitting through her slight fingers. Taking to concealing her steadily numbing face with her remaining cards, she risked another glance up at her waiting partner, the woman’s tasteful beige-denim dress, the small but meaningful tattoo upon her rather muscular arms, a testament to her ancestors and her people, (Something she’d happened to learn on a previous dare much to her satisfaction) and finally, that artfully vibrant face – framed by an almost unruly fringe. Elsa had been itching to map out those laughter lines and the barely-there smattering of freckles for what seemed like a lifetime. Probably after her third drink. How she’d map them out? She’d probably surprise herself. That’s what Honeymaren was after all. She was a string of surprises. A thread of charged possibilities. This girl had to be the personification of what Elsa imagined being completely carefree was like. This was a girl that knew no limits and pushed all boundaries. Just by playing at her side, Elsa had learnt of a world so totally different to hers. She’d learnt of doting brothers and ancient family ties in a modern world, and there was so much to uncover— if she could just get this _one_ question over with.

Perhaps the whole turn of events had been something her subconscious was conjuring as a taunt to see how far that bubbly feeling in her chest and the buzzing in her head would take her on this night, for after bumbling a brief and tactless ‘what?’ behind those cards, her gaze found the beautifully tanned brunette she’d appointed her adversary for the night averting her own honey eyes. The ones Elsa hadn’t been able to shake from her own for quite some time. She’d been stalling for too long. With a single arm outstretched towards Elsa, brazenly expectant of a ring, her apparent potential fiancé made as if to cough awkwardly before thinking better of it. That was a first. Her card-mate, having introduced herself practically the minute Anna’d made herself absent with Kristoff, had swiftly steered the two of them to the bar-side after but three minutes of small-talk, having no trouble offering Elsa any stroke of liquid courage she chose on the house. The spitting definition of control and… experience was how she’d held herself around Elsa. But then, despite having dared Elsa herself, a steady blush soon crept to her cheeks at Elsa’s continued silence – something she could only hope appeared pensive or intentional at least. The ease with which this beauty had approached Elsa openly drew her in just those hours before, and now? Somehow Elsa began to wonder If she actually held the upper hand. If she was being honest with herself, allowing Maren’s advances had been the best decision she could’ve made the whole night, and she was not about to give her company up just yet. Though, that decision hadn’t nearly been cutting it close to whatever the hell she could have possibly come up with in response to _this_ conundrum.

“Elsa, come on, you heard me!” Her bold companion pressed eventually, those striking amber eyes burning with something Elsa could only describe as troublesome. This girl was trouble. This girl was _intoxicating_.

“You’re serious?” She finally found her tongue, clearly over her bout of shock. She could play this game too. Honeymaren nodded eagerly, obviously having decided there was no going back from her unprecedented request. Elsa had to hand it to her, the girl had guts –But so did she.

“Dead serious. Look, shall I get us some onion rings? Let me just—”

“No!” Elsa found herself crying out in a laugh as she reached a hand out in intervention, only for Maren to intertwine it with hers and double their laughing at the stricken expression on Elsa’s face.

“That was a no? You won’t marry me?” Her devilish adversary murmured in a pout after a moment’s pause. It was then that Elsa decided that not only was this woman trouble, but she was by extension, _relentless_.

“You’re relentless!” She voiced her thoughts with a dramatic sniff, and her partner’s smile only softened, those brows turning upwards in sincerity. Elsa tried her best to ignore the electricity that came with each stroke of a calloused finger over her own. She’d have to ask about the woman’s job. Yet another detail she couldn’t help but await uncovering.

“If this is too much, I can always—"

“I— Of course, I will,” Elsa found it within her to suddenly snap back, a steady beam of her own working its way onto her face. “Marry you, that is,” She finished, to which Honeymaren could only blink.

“You’re not kidding?” She exclaimed, jumping a little in her seat at Elsa’s graceful nod.

“Are you? Better yet, you’re sure you can handle me? Better yet, my sister! She’ll be giving you hell—”

“She hadn’t seemed so bad when you described her to me earlier!” Came Maren’s retort, her fingers tapping at Elsa’s knuckles.

“You’re right. She’s honestly… There’s nobody better than my sister,” She chuckled, recalling the fact that her sister _had_ ditched her earlier – though that turned out to be a quite the brilliant success for Elsa, hadn’t it? She’d struck gold in Las Vegas, it seemed.


End file.
